


And a Lust for Life

by TeaAndATale



Series: Like July Forever [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 13:45:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaAndATale/pseuds/TeaAndATale
Summary: The morning after Steve's birthday, he wakes in bed next to Peggy and he can't stop staring.Sequel to "I'm Your National Anthem"





	And a Lust for Life

**Author's Note:**

> It's that time of year again. I'd been toying with the idea of writing a sequel to "I'm Your National Anthem" but it didn't click until a few weeks ago listening to Lana Del Rey's new singles, which honestly could not have been a more perfect inspiration and fitting continuation for this.  
> If you're so inclined, I encourage listening to "Lust For Life" by Lana Del Rey featuring The Weeknd along with this one.

 

_They say only the good die young_  
_That just ain't right_  
_'Cause we're having too much fun_  
_Too much fun tonight, yeah_  
_And a lust for life, and a lust for life_  
_Keeps us alive_  
_\- Lana Del Rey_

 

He’s been staring. Maybe for hours though it doesn’t feel like it. He rarely ever falls back to sleep in the morning but he wouldn’t dare to drift off, not even against the lull of the crashing waves. Not now. Not when she’s right there. Sleeping contentedly inches away from him.

It all still seems too perfect to be real. But the details are spot on. The arch of Peggy’s brows even in sleep. The shape of her lips. He’d spent countless hours studying both during the war. He’s been torn between waking her and letting her sleep. He’s been torn between his insatiable desire and the indescribable softness of a morning after, of silky brown curls spilled on the soft white sheets, of steady warm breaths making their mark against his skin.

Finally, hearing Peggy sniff, he takes a chance and runs a fingertip across her cheek, then tousling her curls. She makes a low sound and he can’t control himself. He presses closer, his fingers drifting down her neck, his mouth finding itself below her jaw.

She lets out another hum, and he feels her palm running up across his chest. Steve presses further kisses down her neck towards her chest. He feels her hands bat at him.

“Later,” she mumbles. “Sleepy. Cuddle.”

Even mostly asleep, she manages to pull her arms and legs around him, attempting to be the big spoon. But Steve can’t handle not being able to look right at her. He kisses her again, and shifts until they’re chest to chest, his own arm tight against her back.

Peggy grumbles sleepily as he continues to nuzzle her neck.

“Sleep darling,” she orders, pressing her face against his chest. “Sleep now. But later I promise.”

He’s too antsy and aroused to sleep, but he’s not disappointed. Especially not when Peggy still throws a leg over his, and her hand has found its way into his hair. He sighs in bliss. This is bliss. And there’s something soothing in the air. The body contact. The warm sunshine streaming in. The promise of later. He drifts off.

 

 

The next time Steve wakes it’s to gentle touches against his cheek, to kisses on his jaw. He turns until he meets Peggy’s lips with his and kisses her hard. She hums and wraps her arms around his neck just as Steve turns.

He hovers above her, fingertips gentle against her jawline.

“You’ve got to be real,” Steve murmurs.

She quirks her eyebrow.

“I’ve wanted… For so long. But I don’t think I could have ever imagined it to be like that.”

“Like what darling? What had you imagined?”

Steve flushes but he doesn’t stop his careful tracings.

“I—Not—that I’ve pictured—I just…”

Steve feels her hand trail down his spine and then curl around his bottom. She bit her lip as she waited for him to continue.

“I know how fellas talk about their nights with ladies. Heard them bragging and claim their expertise,” Steve starts, pausing to figure out how to explain himself.

He’d heard Bucky’s enthusiasm but in most all the stories he’d overheard from men there had had been something missing for him. The elusive something more. Nothing had been missing with Peggy.

“But it was so rare to hear a man talk about what it felt like to really make a connection. To feel loved,” he continued. His hand cupped her cheek. “You made me feel loved. For being Steve.”

“Well I would hope so. That’s who I love.”

He sighs with a smile. When was the last time he had smiled? He couldn’t quite recall. His night with Peggy had been so enjoyable, but it had also been fulfilling.

“Darling…” Peggy started some time later in a serious tone that told Steve reality was about to come crashing down to interfere. He didn’t want it to creep into this living dream.

“Do we have to leave?” he asks.

She looks curiously at him but doesn’t question him.

“No.”

“Then I don’t want to know.”

She wants to give him a but, to not let him indulge himself. But Steve had never indulged himself, never shirked duty for personal gain, never openly sought out his own pleasure. Not when something more important was afoot. She loved that about him. She had often felt the same way, that single-minded focus.

But Steve had finally chosen to prioritize himself. It had started with his attempt at intoxication. She preferred he choose this instead. She would let him choose love for a while longer. She couldn’t deny she was being every bit as selfish.

“You were more than I had anticipated too Steve,” she tells him.

“So I was okay? You liked it too?”

“Oh very much. You’ve always been a quick study.”

He grins and leans down to kiss her again.

 

 

He would have been happy to stay in bed forever, to be skin to skin lazily dozing the day away, but finally Peggy rouses him, telling him it was time to start the day, that she needed a shower.

Steve pulls her back to him, frowning at just the mere suggestions of being away from her. Even a room apart. He feels stupid, his cheeks flushing, his eyes downcast. She just wants to shower, and he can’t handle that. But he doesn’t want to seem like a complete idiot to Peggy.

He feels her hand brush his cheek, then cup it. He slowly lifts his eyes back to her. There’s something soft and knowing in them.

“I didn’t say I had to shower alone,” she tells him as if reading his thoughts.

The idea only makes his cheeks flush further, especially as her grin widens and she starts to move out of bed again, the sheets falling away from her body. He swears that she stretches just to make his eyes pop, inching up on her tiptoes, arms raised high above her head, a perfect display of all the lines and curves of her. Steve doesn’t know where to look first. Even though he’s already had the chance to explore her, he’s nowhere near content, wanting to map her to his heart’s desire, with his hands, with charcoal against paper, with his mouth…

The little noises she makes as she stretches would be enough to wake him from a deep sleep. And then, a few steps from the doorway leading to the attached bathroom, she looks over her shoulder and beckons him with just a look.

He practically flies out of bed, tangling in the sheets, hopping on one foot as he attempts to free himself to follow Peggy to the sound of the spray of water.

 

 

Wrapped in towels, she leads the way into the rest of the house. Steve watches water drop from her the ends of her hair and roll down her shoulder blades as she rummages around the kitchen.

“I’m starving,” she says.

So is he. He moves closer to her, his palm curling at her hip, pressing a kiss between her shoulders. Oh he’s definitely starving.

She looks over her shoulder at him and quirks her brow with an amused smile.

“We need real sustenance,” she comments, ignoring how his hands tighten their grip on her. “I suppose you wouldn’t want to wait for me here while I go pick up a few essential supplies?”

His features turn frantic. He does not want to be separated from her for even a minute. Maybe he’s been incredible irrational. He doesn’t care.

“Peggy.”

The bubble they’ve created all morning threatens to burst again, and he can feel ice plunge down into his stomach.

“That’s fine Steve. It’s fine,” she reassures him, taking his hand. “You can drive this time.”

They’re wearing last night’s clothes, but he couldn’t care less. She’s beautiful in red. So beautiful. Her arms hold him tight, red fingernails scratching gently up and down his chest. He sighs and revs the engine. She gives him directions and the second they park, he hops off and takes her hand. She walks easily between the aisles, lamenting that with their appetites combined they really needed a car and not just his motorcycle to make a proper haul. A simple shopping trip became an enjoyable outing, Peggy running her hands up his arms as she pointed out items of interest. At the register, he dug through his pockets for his wallet while Peggy easily swipes her plastic card. He still doesn’t understand that so much, though he’d like to figure it out all soon so he could contribute his share. She simply squeezes his hand back, trailing a hand up his arm. He loves her so much.

 

 

Peggy sends him outside to set up an umbrella table while she insists on making coffee and a late breakfast. He tries not to panic since he has a direct line of sight into the kitchen and the back of her. Still, he spends more time making sure she doesn’t disappear from his view than actually setting up the table. It’s mesmerizing to watch, Peggy humming softly as she cooks bacon and eggs, her hair pulled up in a bun. It makes his chest warm, daydreaming about how this could have been a daily sight if he’d made it home from the war. They’d have married. Immediately. He’s sure of it. It makes him long for more, even though she’s right there.

Steve fights a frown. He’s not going to be sad. Not now. Not while he’s living out a dream. Not while he’s in control of this life with her. These stolen moments where it feels like the world has paused just for them.

After the leisurely meal, quietly taking in each other and the ocean before them, she suggests that after they clean up, they could stroll on down to the beach. Neither has real beach attire so they improvise using what they have and what Peggy finds in the closets. He doesn’t ask because questions and their answers inevitably will lead back to reality. And he’s avoiding that at all costs. Just in case.

They walk hand in hand along the beach, both barefoot, both leaning into each other. He wouldn’t take a willful step away from her anyway. Not again.

He wears his blue shirt unbuttoned with just his boxers. Peggy wears an oversized t-shirt like a dress. She looks beautiful. Steve carries towels draped over his arm and the table’s umbrella while Peggy carries down a bag of various supplies.

She sets down the towels, lining them up perfectly next to each other while he digs the umbrella deep into the sand. He watches her pull sun cream out of her bag and start dabbing it across her face. By the time he stretches out next to her, she’s knotted the shirt, rubbing the lotion on her legs, down taut thighs, toned calves, red toes digging into the sand. The tube lands in his lap making him jump. Peggy laughs and pulls off the t-shirt.

“Need you to get my back,” she tells him through giggles, pointing her fingers to her shoulder.

He’s methodical in his work, sweeping arcs with his fingers until she’s evenly coated. Steve sweeps her hair over to one side then swipes a stray bit of lotion off her cheek. He’s rewarded with a dazzling smile that makes his stomach flood with butterflies. After the night he spent with her and he was still feeling butterflies.

They lounge in the scorching July heat smiling and laughing, avoiding discussions of anything that would burst their bubble. He can’t remember the last time he ever spent so much time present in the moment, slowing to smell the salty air, to dwell on the countless grains of sand beneath his toes.

Steve starts doodling in the sand, first Peggy’s name, then his. Peggy adds a heart. He carves out a sun and then a smiling face, a mirror of his expression. Happy. He feels happier than he can explain.

Peggy pulls him to his feet, and they strolled up and down the shore line, waves ebbing and flowing, spraying cold water up to their ankles. When they returned near their towels, Peggy raised her brow at him in challenge.

“Race you to the water!”

He never did back down from a challenge. He rushes ahead of her crashing into the ocean, the freezing water drenching him from head to toe. He hears Peggy burst into uncontrollable laughter. She’s still only ankle-deep in water. A dirty trick. She’s bent over in amusement, but he can’t help but laugh along with the joyous sounds.

“You’re rotten Carter,” he calls out to her.

She wades closer, still laughing. “I apologize Steve, I simply couldn’t resist.”

Steve slips his hand to her waist, fingers spreading far around her back. He can’t stop thinking about how her bare skin felt, somewhere between satin and velvet. He can’t stop thinking about how a spark crackled beneath the tips of his fingers at being able and allowed to touch her. He can’t stop thinking about it all. Her. Him. Her and him together. Finally.

 

 

Both their soaked underwear dries out on the patio as they washed and dressed for dinner. They watch the sun slowly begin to set over the horizon, both sipping a bottle of red Peggy found in the pantry. His soul feels at peace lingering over dinner against a sunset with the love of his life. Both his lives. Before and after. It’s always been Peggy.

They wash dishes in tandem, setting away the plates and the cutlery. He’s too afraid to ask where they’ll go from here. At some point, as much as he wishes he could prevent it, he knows the day must end.

But not yet.

Peggy reached for his hand to the living room where she plays with the speakers until old familiar crooners fill the air. She takes his hand again, instructing him to hold her waist.

“I’d say it’s about time I taught you to dance,” she tells him, and his butterflies return.

They sway in lopsided circles against the hardwood floors, Peggy staring right into his eyes. She murmurs in his ear how much she had wanted him during the war, how she fell for him starting with the flagpole in Camp Lehigh.

His grip tightens with each new confession, and then before he knows it, he’s got her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist. He backs them against the nearest wall. She moans as his hands pull the hem of her dress up.

“Take off your clothes Steve,” she groans impatiently as they move against each other, the friction abetted by the layers of material between them.

He knows now how to make her gasp, how to make her let out the perfect sounds of her pleasure. He knows now that every time she lets out his name in a breath it’s a badge of honor. The excitement of knowing just how good he makes her feel.

So he ignores her orders, having some ideas of his own in mind, just for her. He presses harder against her, the hand not holding her in place trailing up her ribcage in time with the kisses he’s leaving on her neck.

“Steve!”

He sucks, his hand cupping her breast through her dress. He feels her hand come down to pull at his shirt. He reluctantly moves his hand to circle her wrist, pinning it to the wall as he tilts his hips some more making her eyes shut.

“Steve I swear—”

He silences her with a kiss. He can make her feel good. That’s his priority. He carries her over to the couch and before she can comment he slides her underwear off and tosses them aside, He knows exactly how to drive her crazy the way she did for him last night. He moves slow, gauging her reactions carefully as he sweeps his tongue across her. Between his mouth and fingers he finds a rhythm, listening to her voice crescendo.

She’s breathless and dazed and Steve could live forever on that image of her.

“Bedroom now,” she orders and this time he obeys.

 

 

“Did you have a good birthday darling?” she asks once they’ve locked up the house and settled back in the bedroom, the balcony door still open to let the summer breeze waft through the room.

He nods.

“Haven’t had anything like it. And I definitely haven’t had a really memorable birthday in decades.”

She smiles sadly at him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you Steve. And your life is worth celebrating.”

He beams at her, his heart on fire. He feels alive again, like he’s finally starting his life anew.


End file.
